


if we make it through december

by cottagecorecas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brief mention of Dean and Sam's childhood Christmases, Brief mention of John being a deadbeat Dad, Castiel the self-hating angel of Thursday, Castiel/Dean Winchester in Purgatory, Christmas, Christmas in Purgatory, Dean praying to Cas in Purgatory, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash to Established Relationship, Purgatory, S8 Purgatory, Self-Hating Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28265391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cottagecorecas/pseuds/cottagecorecas
Summary: A short oneshot that starts with Dean and Cas in Purgatory for Christmas, both desperately wanting to be together, and timeskipping to them spending the holiday together in an alternate post-canon universe where Cas survives s15 (as he should've done in the first place).
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 59





	if we make it through december

**Author's Note:**

> merry christmas, everyone! i hope, whether you can be with the ones you love or not this year, you find something to be joyous about today.
> 
> as always this is unbeta'd. happy reading <3

_Hey, Cas._

_If I’ve been counting right, today is Christmas Day. It’s hard to keep track, with not really sleeping properly and everything, and there aren’t exactly any calendars here. I’m pretty sure today’s the 25 th though._

_I guess it doesn’t really matter. There are no rules here anyway. Today can be Christmas Day if we want it to be._

_I’ve never really celebrated. Sam and I, well we never really had a reason to. Dad didn’t really care much for Christmas. I think maybe he missed Mom too much, or he was just too hell-bent on hunting to notice. He always made himself very busy around the holidays though, dragging Sam and me to a new motel room in another random city almost every other night. We must’ve travelled from coast to coast each December alone._

_Poor Sam never got to have a real Christmas. He would always ask where Dad was, and why we couldn’t have Christmas like all the other kids did. It hurt to see him like that, y’know? He was a good kid; he deserved a good Christmas. I tried to do that for him. I really tried, but there’s only so much a kid with only two bucks and a motel key to his name can do, y’know?_

_There was one year though – I guess it was a while back now – where Sam surprised me. He decorated this tiny tree he got from god-knows-where, and made eggnog, and we just drank and watched the game, and even though it sounds sad, that was the happiest Christmas I’ve ever had. I think that’s when I learned that today isn’t about the gifts, or the food or the music or any of the stuff that everyone tells you it’s about. It’s about the people you have around you, and it’s about showing them you care about them, in any way you can, especially if you don’t show it enough throughout the year. And doing what we do, it’s never likely that we’re gonna’ live to see the next Christmas._

_I guess, what I’m trying to say is, we might not be together, Cas, but we’ve still got each other. I know I said some things back up top, but I haven’t given up on you, okay? I’m still looking for you. I’ll keep looking until next Christmas if I have to, and the one after that too._

_I really hope you’re good, Cas. I don’t really know if you celebrate, being an angel and all. I guess I should’ve asked while I had the chance. You were probably at the very first one, huh? This one must suck in comparison to that one._

_I know I said it wasn’t important, but how about one day, when I get us both out of here, we have a real Christmas? The food, the gifts, the whole nine yards. We could get a tree – a real, green tree, not like these stupid dead things. Maybe I could even get you a festive tie. It might brighten your look up a little. You could be a jolly tax accountant instead of just a regular one._

_I’ve just gotta find you first. I’m hoping Christmas miracles work down here. God knows we’re due one. Then again, God probably doesn’t care, does he? If I could just find you today, well not to get all sappy, but that would make this the best Christmas I’ll ever have. If I’m being honest, that’s all I really want, Cas._

_Well, uh…anyway…I doubt the rest of the population here respect Christian holidays enough to give us a day off, so I better go._

_Merry Christmas, Cas. I’ll see you real soon, okay, buddy?_

“Merry Christmas, Dean,” Castiel whispers, the surrounding trees his only witness. The words seem to echo in the emptiness, and as Castiel tries to concentrate on monitoring his surroundings for Leviathan, he can’t help but think of a Christmas with Dean. Nothing would bring him more joy than to pick out a tree and to carry it home. He could watch Dean decorate it, and reassure him that it looks good when it’s not as he pictured it. He could tell him that of all the Christmases he’s been witness to over the years, this one is his favourite. They could toast to living through another year’s passing, and to bask in the knowledge that he gets to spend one more with Dean.

How his heart burns for it. How his stolen bones ache to be in the home of the man he loves, warmed by the glow of a million Christmas lights. Then he remembers why he’s here in the first place, and why he never gets to leave. With a twist of guilt, the tide of shame comes flooding in, and he tries not to think about how he’ll never see Dean’s eyes outshine the green of a Christmas tree, or how he’ll never be lit by his beaming smile from across the dinner table. He tries not to think of Dean, here of all places, alone on another Christmas morning, his only friend the reason he’s trapped here in the first place. He tries to forget how Dean’s voice faltered whenever he said Castiel’s name, and how he could hear the wistful smile as he talked of a future he might never have. He tries to push down the thought that he could’ve had it all if he’d listened to Dean in the first place, and if his arrogance hadn’t blinded him. If he’d just kept that door to this place shut. If he’d just done as Dean said.

He wishes things were different. He wishes Dean Winchester had never been cursed with the likes of him.

Forcing the dream of a happy Christmas from his mind, he leaves his place at the table, removes his face from the frames on the mantel, and comes back to reality – Purgatory, the place where monsters belong.

A Christmas with Dean is not something Castiel can have. Not after what he’s done.

That home has no space for him now.

❆ ❆ ❆

“Cas!”

Pulling him from his slumber, Castiel feels someone shove on his shoulder. “Cas, wake up!”

He turns his head from the pillow slightly, opening one eye a little. Vision still hazy, he comes to find Dean standing over him, an unfocused smile as wide as Castiel has ever seen it.

“Morning, Sunshine. Do you know what time it is?”

It’s unusual for Dean to be this animated at this time of morning. Usually Castiel has to coax him from under the covers with the promise of coffee and bacon for breakfast. This must be how he feels every time.

“Whatever time it is, it’s too early,” Castiel grumbles, letting his open eyelid fall closed again and pulling the covers up over his face.

“Merry Christmas to you too, now get yourself out of bed before I drag you out myself,” he hears Dean say half-jokingly, his voice muffled where Castiel’s head is buried under the covers.

When Cas doesn’t move, Dean pokes at him again. “He’s being such a grinch, isn’t he?” he says to Miracle, who has joined in too, finding a gap and making his way under the covers, licking Castiel’s face all over.

“Okay, okay. I’m awake.” Castiel says, pushing himself up from the comfort of their mattress and away from Miracle’s ambush. He sits up, rubbing the sleep from his half-open eyes.

“Oh, look! His heart’s grown three times bigger!” Dean jokes, overexaggerating the shock on his face.

“You know I don’t understand that reference.”

“Guess you’ll have to watch the movie with me later then,” Dean teases, stealing a kiss, and before Castiel can even calibrate his surroundings Dean is rushing down the stairs, Miracle closely behind him.

Stretching a little, Castiel shuffles onto his feet and follows them. As he makes his way down the stairs, he watches Dean disappear around the corner, heading into their living room, and Castiel moves his legs, still half-asleep, a little faster down the last of the steps. When he makes it to the living room, he finds Dean already under the tree, seemingly searching for a specific gift. After a moment, he’s back, resting on his knees, his grin one of pure joy.

“Here. Open this one first,” Dean urges, leaning over to give Castiel the gift.

The paper is creased where Dean had obviously struggled to wrap it, and where the two edges met of it in the centre there is a mountain of tape so thick that Castiel thinks he’ll never get be able to infiltrate it. After a while though, with Dean’s impatient eyes trained on him the whole time, he manages to make a tear and rip off the wrapping.

When he sees what’s underneath it, Castiel is speechless.

“I know it’s nothing big,” Dean blurts out, obviously nervous about Castiel’s silence, “but I wanted to get you something with the spare money I got from working at the garage, and we don’t have any pictures together.”

Castiel’s eyes trace the picture in the photo-frame in his hands. It’s of him and Dean on the day they moved in, Miracle sat neatly in the centre at their feet, tongue poking out on one side due to the summer heat.

“It’s about time we finally make some happy memories together,” Dean continues.

“Dean I-,” Castiel starts, unable to put how grateful he is into words. It’s an impossible task. He doesn’t even know where to start. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

Dean’s smile returns, even wider now, and Castiel falls in love with him for the millionth time.

They both open the rest of their gifts, Dean only stopping to help Miracle open his. When he opens the matching couple’s Christmas sweaters from Castiel, he rolls his eyes and teases him for it, but he puts it on almost immediately, and he wears it all day, even when Sam can’t stop laughing when they greet him and Eileen at the door.

Cheerful faces around the dinner table, Dean’s smile as bright as the lights on the tree, Castiel can’t believe how lucky he is. He never thought he’d get to have this. If he’s honest, he’s a little overwhelmed with how happy he feels. It’s a feeling that’s still a little foreign, especially in its unbridled human form, and his face must reflect just that, because when Dean turns to look at him he finds his hand under the table and gives it a squeeze.

Leaning in, he whispers, “You okay?”

Castiel nods. He’s so much better than okay.

“Good. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Dean.”


End file.
